"P. N. Elrod - Vampire Files 08 - The Dark Sleep" - читать интересную книгу автора (Elrod P N)

"I'll pick up some Chinese on the way back," he said absently, fitting two sheets of paper and a carbon
into the carriage.

More than once my girlfriend, Bobbi, had insisted that the odd plate of chow mein did not make for a
good diet, but Escott seemed to thrive on the stuff. He rarely cooked for himself beyond opening a can of
soup or beans, more often than not eating the stuff cold from the can. Only his passion for neatness kept
the kitchen from collecting cobwebs.

"Will you be going to the club as usual?" he asked.

"Yeah. Bobbi's been rehearsing that new show all week and it opens tonight. You're welcome to come
along; she'd love to see you there."

"Tomorrow, perhaps. Let them work out of their opening-night jitters." He spoke from experience.

"I guess. She said the last rehearsal was a disaster, people missing cues, sets falling downтАж"

"Really?" He looked up from the typewriter, his expression warming. "Excellent."

"Excellent? How can you say that?"

"Because tradition has it that when you have a smooth dress rehearsal, the opening will be a flop, but if
it's a string of disasters, then success is guaranteed."

I digested that one. "I'll let her know."

"She already does, I'm sure. Do give her my regards."

A clear signal for me to remove my charming self so he could get to work. "Right, see ya."

I shut the door and went downstairs to my waiting car as he began hammering away on the machine,
which was something of a reversal for us. At home I was usually the one doing the typing, with him
providing the interruptions. I harbored a dream of becoming a writer of fiction, having until some months
back been a writer of fact in my career as a newsman. I'd worked for one of the minor New York
papers for several years, fighting for bylines, fighting for this, fighting for that, before deciding that I
needed a change; hence my move to Chicago.

Most of it had been inspired by the disappearance of my girlfriend at that time, Maureen. Hell, we were
lovers, passionate, devoted lovers. She was a vampire, though that had never been an obstacle to either
of us. The lovemaking was incredible and created the potential for my own possible conversion. Then
one night she just wasn't there, and the cryptic note she'd left me about returning when things were safe
nearly drove me out of my mind with doubt, worry, surmise, betrayal, and a hundred other forms of
self-torture. My one defense against them was the solid knowledge that Iknew she loved me and that
only something very extraordinary had to have come up for her to leave as she'd done.

And so I waited for her to return, placing ads in all the papers for her every week like clockwork. I
waited for five goddamned years before despair finally set in and I decided to move and start fresh in
Chicago. There were too many memories in New York, too many people who knew my problem, too
much cloying sympathy from some or exasperated chagrin from others who thought I was a sap and